Simply Mine
by RawrTheSecond
Summary: Far away in a boarding school in England were two roommates. The most different, completely unlikely duo you could ever meet, one may wounder how they are even friends. Or are they more than just that? UsUk Au. Rated T for mild swearing.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hi, so, um, I know that I haven't worked on this story in about a year? Maybe less? I dunno. I'm super sorry for being gone, I just had a lot to do and then got bored with it and, well, procrastinated. So here I am again, back from the dead, and I am working on editing the HECK out of this story. It's pretty bad..._

_NOTE: I have included a lot more details and new bonus parts, so I recommend reading from the beginning, even if you have read it before._

_So, enjoy!_

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

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><p>I really wasn't expecting this school year to be too different from any other year. I just looked forward to be spending time doing something again. It seemed to me that my summers were always so bland and dull. All I did was sit around in my library, surrounded by books. I mean, I would've done something with someone. I would've gone out with my friends.<br>...However, I had no friends.  
>So school was actually kind of fun for me, and not just because I got to go to a different, foreign place and get to stay there the whole year. Not because I always did well in school either.<br>No, the reason was simple. So I could be with people.

I'm actually not too fond of people in general, however I do appreciate the feeling of another person in the same room as me, their life force rich and powerful. I also love to study them, learn more about the human mind and tendencies of people. I think I am quite good at reading people, and I can do it from just their expression or the look in their eyes.  
>"Arthur!" my mother bellowed from the bottom of the staircase. I ran out of my bedroom in my plaid grey socks and stared down at her.<br>"Yes, mum?" I asked, my head peeking over the pretty white banister.  
>"Are you almost done packing?" She asked, wiping her powdery flour covered hands her crisp white apron. I smiled.<br>"I'm practically finished," I stated, and turned around "I'll be down soon."  
>And with that I disappeared back into my room, slammed the door and huffed, running my hand across the soft button-ups and sweater. Sure I would miss my home. Sure, I'd miss my family.<br>But is it so wrong to want to leave?

I neatly folded my shirt and placed it gently on top of the small pile of clothes in the suitcase. I have a peculiar fashion sense, hardly like the rowdy generation nowadays. I prefer to look proper, neat and crisp, not messy and torn up and raggedy like so many of my fellow adolescents. I have been told before that I was born into the wrong generation, and I couldn't agree more.  
>I slowly closed and locked the tan suitcase, letting the familiar scent of lavender coming off of the old piece of luggage fill my nose. I stood up, gently brushing off my clothes. Walking over to the mirror, I came face to face with myself.<br>I ran a hand through my light blonde hair, annoyed at how it would never stay straight and neat, like my fathers'. But, then again, I seemed to taken more after my mother anyway.  
>I have a rather petite figure, slim and short. I've always wanted to be taller, or possibly even more muscular, but I suppose that that's life. I have wide, green eyes. The really bright kind. On top of those are rather thick eyebrows that I definitely wasn't fond of at all. Everyone on my fathers' side had these eyebrows, and no matter what you were stuck with them, like a curse. It suited my rowdy red-haired cousins quite well, seemingly a part of them. But on me, they stuck out like a sore thumb.<br>I nodded to myself, then grabbed the large suitcase resting against my knee. It took me a second to pick it up, since it was rather heavy.  
>I huffed, painstakingly pulling the worn, tan suitcase along behind me. I stumbled down the stairs and ran straight into my father.<p>

He was a short man, like me, but he was incredibly strong. His dirty blonde hair was combed neatly across his head. He was a refined businessman, and I wanted to be like him when I was older.  
>I grinned nervously at him, backing slightly away. He just chuckled and ruffled my already messy hair. I swatted his hand away.<br>"Ready to go?" He asked, his deep voice reverberating through the open halls of our home. I nodded curtly, and he put a thick arm around my back and led me outside. My mother waited, leaning against our old station wagon with red teary eyes. I sighed. I went away to my boarding school every year, and every year she'd cry.  
>You think she'd be used to it by now.<br>I ran up to her and hugged her, my small body curling easily into her taller, slimmer build. She closed her watery eyes and smiled, pulling me closer.  
>She had long golden hair that she always had tied up with a neat ribbon. She loved the color blue, so that's pretty much all she wore. But it suited her nicely. She had light, pale, mint green eyes. She always looked stunning, and no one could deny that.<p>

My mother pushed me away and dabbed the corner of her eyes with a lacy white handkerchief.

"I love you so much!" She wailed and threw her arms out yet again, pulling me into a suffocating bear hug. I rolled my eyes at my father and he just laughed his deep laugh.  
>"Well," My mother sniffed, letting me go for (hopefully) the last time, "let's go."<strong><br>**

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><em>AN: Hope you liked it! (and it's improvements!)_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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>I rested my head lazily against the window, watching the English countryside pass by in a blur a blur. Quiet classical music played serenely in the background as I felt the car jolt up and down. I let my breath gradually fog up the old window and drew a little fairy.<br>I wished she was real.  
>I sighed and turned my head away from the cold window, blinking my eyes drowsily. My mother had long since fallen into a deep slumber, and my father was behind the wheel, attentive and keen per usual. They really were such a perfect match, I had always thought of them to be soulmates.<br>My mother, Lilly, was a messy woman who loved to help other people and be active. She was always doing something, weather it be helping out in a local fundraiser or working out in the garden with me. My father, George, was a quiet, neat man who kept more to himself and his work, however he always had time for family I wondered if I'd ever find someone like that. Some nice woman who would take good care of our children and I, and always be looking out for us. Someone kind, benevolent and an honest good person. I had always thought that there was too many liars, too many people so focused on themselves that they forget te feelings of other people.  
>I could only wish.<p>I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, I heard my father's baritone voice rumble in the background.<br>"We're here." I widened my eyes and looked out the window. What lay before me was a beautiful courtyard laden with fresh flowers and all sorts of greenery. A huge, warm-colored tan brick mansion stood in the background, a enormous clock gleaming at its front.  
>I jumped out of the car happily and inhaled the fresh, clean, unpolluted air. The school was in the middle of the Wales countryside. To me this really was a home away from home; the staff all remembered me quite fondly, and always looking out for me. I was so happy to be back, I practically sang! Looking over to my favorite tree, a huge oak that must have been at least a thousand years old, I noticed something different.<p>

A white rosebush was planted under the tree, blocking the spot that I had always loved to rest, read, and work under. I wandered over to it, leaving my parents behind to pull out my suitcase.

I huffed, agitated at whoever had planted the bush there. I was a bit sad that my favorite reading spot had been taken, but I did love those pretty white flowers. They were my favorite kind. I sighed, disappointed - but I practically skipped back to my parents.

"Let's go in!"

I sat politely on the plush chair within the office, waiting for my parents to finish up talking things over with the principal. Humming to myself happily, I took in my surroundings.

The room was painted a pale mint green, with an elegant white border tracing around the bottom of the wall. The floors were a nice, polished amber wood that complimented the walls perfectly. Bright sunlight shone into the room through the open window and lit up a table covered in a variety of colorful flowers. A pleasant smell of old books and ink wafted around the room. A few desks were here and there, with busy office woman sitting around and ruffling and shuffling papers in time like clockwork- each part equally as important to make the whole system run smoothly.

My parents stepped out of the office and hugged me, saying their final goodbyes. I wouldn't be seeing them for about another 3 months, so it was pretty hard to say goodbye. I knew they had business to attend to back at home though, so I didn't draw out the goodbye too long. They told me to be good and responsible, which was really a pointless thing to say as I always was, then checked that I was all ready and set to begin classes, and finally gave me one last hug and kiss before leaving the room. I stood there, watching the door slowly swing shut when I heard someone from behind me. Someone with a very, very distinct Italian accent.

"Ah, Arthur!" The Headmaster, Mr. "Rome", a handsome brunette man with a loud, bellowing voice (to match his personality) called, and pulled me into a big fatherly hug. I stood awkwardly as the man laughed and then held me at arm's length.

"Um…hello." I muttered, face tinged pink at the invasion of personal space. He laughed, his big, bright white teeth flashing, then rustled my hair and let me go.

"So, Arthur, you're the first yet again!" He grinned, casually leaning up against a green wall, his dark, button-up blue shirt standing out strongly against the light wall. I nodded awkwardly as he ducked his head in return before turning to the door.

Principal Rome knew my family very well, apparently having been old friends with my father when the Italian went for an exchange program to an English school. He always pampered me because of that, and also, I assumed, since his children had long since grown up, moved out, and had children of their own (of which one went and the other one taught at this very school). He was a little too fatherly to me, however I appreciated the perks of that.

"Well, I guess I'll show you to your room!" he bellowed, grabbing my arm and dragging me out with him. He began to chat with me as we walked down the big, empty halls, heading for the dormitories. "We haven't really changed much about the place, as you can see. Though hopefully next year we can change it to a warmer, more tannish or reddish color, no?" I rolled my eyes at this. He said it every year, and every year it stayed the same cool mint color. When Mr. Rome became principal, he wanted to change the common english style of cooler colors and patterns to the common Italian style, which is on the warmer side of the color spectrum. However the "second in command"(whose name has left me, as he mostly keeps to himself shut up in his office somewhere within the labyrinth- like school) refused to let Mr. Rome do such a thing. We soon came to a halt outside of a white door with the number 312 painted on it.

I stepped into my room, and the Head thunked down my heavy luggage and bid a quick farewell before he whisked out the door, slamming it behind him. I dragged the heavy beast of a suitcase up onto my bed and opened it up, examining its contents. Slowly pulled out books and placing them upon the nice cherry bookshelf in the room, I reveled in the feel of my old home. The walls were a clean white that reflected the light streaming through the open window beautifully, giving the room a light sunflower-like color. It was a magnificent room.

You usually have to share a room with one other person at the school, but somehow (probably due to my parents' overprotective and influential ways) I always ended up alone, without anyone in my room. No one would ever show up to take the second bed, and I honestly had no problems with that. Each room started out with two beds in case there was some emergency switch or odd new student that had not been assigned a room yet. If not taken on the first day, it would be taken out of the room and put into storage. So it was no loss of space to me, and I didn't mind it's being there - as long as it was gotten rid of eventually.

I quickly finished unpacking and propped myself on the window ledge, peering out at the grounds. I had a nice view over the boarding school's front gardens, where we had arrived and where the rest of the students would soon be arriving from. There was a curved path that was neatly paved that ran in a circle around the front of a large iron gate that was now open, inviting students and parents and siblings alike into the warm, cheery old school. I could see cars and limousines pulling up now, along with luxurious busses that picked up the kids who lived nearby here. I saw kids of every ethnicity, color, and style imaginable. Tall, short, skinny, fat, fashionable or geeky, they were all there.

One of them will be my friend this year. I'm sure of it. I thought before slipping off the edge and turning to my bed. I plopped myself down unceremoniously on it and aligned my stuffed animals carefully up against the wall bordering my bed. Then I reached for a book and soon got immersed into its wonderful fantasy tale about elves and faeries and all sorts of incredible things. Though I didn't mind other subjects, fantasy would always hold a special place in my heart.

Soon, the sun began to set and the last stragglers were now entering the building. I knew that now those new to the school would all be gathered outside the front office, getting a special tour of the school from the Head himself. The rest of the kids who had been here before and knew the school quite well would be socializing with their roommates and waiting for dinner.

Noticing it would be a while until it was time to eat, I set down my book on the bedside table, took off my clothes and pulled on a huge white t-shirt (I would be all alone, I didn't have to look respectable or anything) and curled up in my blanket, letting my heavy eyelids droop and eventually close, sending me into a deep, peaceful sleep.

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><em>AN: Wow, there were a LOT of edits on this chappy. But I actually deleted and rewrote the entire next one, so..._


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: SHORT. VERY SHORT. WHY DO I WRITE SO LITTLE. GAH.

ANNNYWAY, my pairings WILL BE:

Us x Uk (Duh)

Germany x Italy

Canada x Prussia/France (IDK. VOTE FOR WHICH)

Greece x Japan

Austria x Hungary (?)

China x Russia (?)

(?) Means I may or may not include them. WE'LL SEE.

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><p>Chapter 3: My roommate.<p>

The tall boy sauntered right up to the bed I was laying in, a thick book in my heads. I stared at him as if he was an alien.

He had messy straw-colored hair that reached just to his ear. He had a little hair that stood up stubbornly at his hairline. He had bright, sky blue eyes that were full of excitement and happiness. A pair of light-rimmed glasses perched lightly at the tip of his nose. He wore an old American bomber jacket that looked at least two sizes too bid rested on his shoulders. Underneath he wore a simple white t-shirt with some worn-out, faded blue jeans. He grinned a radiant smile and stuck his large hand into my face.

"Hiya! I'm Alfred Jones, the hero!" He announced loudly in an American accent, making me cringe slightly. I just sat there like an idiot, not able to speak.

He waved a hand in my face.

"Hello? You there" He laughed, making me jolt. I stammered, turning slightly pink.

"Uh, my name's Arthur. Arthur Kirkland." I stuttered, not reaching out to take hold of his hand. He grudgingly pulled it back and just grinned at me. It creped me out.

"Would you mind not staring at me like some blubbering baboon?" I stated, annoyed, at the American, who in turn laughed a loud bellowing laugh and sat himself at the edge of my bed. I huffed and turned my attention to the book in my hand, trying to ignore Alfred.

"Aren't you curious what I'm like?" He asked, trying to get to know his roommate. I sighed and placed the book down beside me.

"Why not." I stated, and looked bored into his face. His grin grew even bigger, if that was possible.

"Well, I'm glad you asked! I'm Alfred Jones! I'm 14 and I come from Iowa, but really came from Texas. My mom had me and my family-"I cringed slightly at his improper grammar"-move to England like a year ago. I don't really know why, but, whatever. I was all bummed and stuff at first, 'cause I had to leave my home and all, but, you know, whatever. This is my first year!"

I nodded curtly and began to speak. "Well, it seems as though you'd probably ask anyway, I am Arthur Kirkland, also 14. My family and I have lived here for as long as I can remember. I don't usually have a roommate, and I'm not looking forward to having one."

I realized I may have been a little harsh when Alfred frowned and slouched his shoulders.

"Well sorry then." He said and stood up. I quickly jumped up.

"I'm sorry, the last bit was a bit mean…" I stammered, feeling guilty. "But I usually end up alone, so…" I awkwardly rubbed the back of my neck, looking at the lightly carpeted room.

"Oh. That's okay!" The American quickly cheered up. I looked up at him.

He was at least a good 20 centimeters taller than me, so I grudgingly had to look up at his face. I realized he reeked of hamburgers and fries, and crinkled my nose. But there was another scent there too, a pleasant one, like a smell of fresh hay of mowed grass. It fit him for his tall, handsome figure.

_Wait - handsome? What?_

I blushed lightly and looked away. I wasn't really paying too much attention as Alfred chattered away about something or other while unpacking his star-spangled, messy suitcase. He pulled out a poster of some superhero and looked proudly at it.

I decided not to ask.

And so that is how I met my roommate. Alfred Jones.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: BUSY BUSY BUSY. I've been having school troubles and stuff, I'm SO SORRY.

I've also been suffering with a bit with what I assume to be depression.

I'll try my hardest to update more.

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><p>Chapter 4: Art.<p>

I lugged my heavy book bag over my shoulder and rubbed my aching temples. I may be a smart student, but having all honors can really fry your brain. I pulled out a neatly-folded slip of paper from my pocket and held it close to read the small text.

_Well, it's time for Art._

My shoulder ached as I stepped into the musty, paint-scented class. Pulling up a stool, I sat neatly down at the front of the room, my sketchbook already set up on the easel. I was all alone in the messy room, since I knew all the short cuts on how to get through this bloody maze of a school.

The room was square, with a paint-covered stage sort of thing at the front. The old, familiar blue tiles were stained with everything from nail polish to permanent marker. A long row of old wooden easels stood up in a circle surrounding the stage, with tall black stools at each station. This was one of my favorite classes, and one of my favorite teachers taught it.

Slowly the students slugged into the room, some looking exhausted while other's looking absolutely full of themselves. I focused intently on my sketchpad just as the teacher walked in.

He was a short fellow, probably about 23 to 24. He had dark reddish-brown hair, and his large chocolate eyes looked annoyed as he dusted off his tan hands on his art smock.

"HEY." The teacher yelled loudly.

This wasn't the old art teacher I had known.

The students all quieted gradually, each one peering up, intrigued by this new loud and irritated teacher.

"I am Lovino Vargas, the new art teacher at this school. You'd better follow closely to everything that I tell you, 'cause I'm not going to repeat it twice!" He barked in a thick Italian accent.

_This guy seems like a lunatic._

Right as the teacher pulled out an attendance clipboard, the door flew open. I flipped my head around to get a good look at the late comer, only to see wide, flustered blue eyes and a mess of straw colored hair.

"Alfred?" I asked, surprised at my roommates sudden appearance. The teacher glared at Alfred as he slowly approached. His head barely reached the American's nose.

"What are you doing showing up late! Class started 15 minutes ago!" The teacher bitched, pointing an accusing finger at the blonde.

"I'm sorry!" Alfred whined in protest to the irritated Italian. But Lovino had already climbed up back onto the stage, telling Alfred to take a seat.

I saw him look around a bit awkwardly before noticing me. A huge grin appeared on his face as he swaggered over to me and sat himself down on the hard plastic stool nest to mine.

"Why were you late?" I hissed at the American quietly. He just sighed and looked down at his Converse.

"I just got lost…" He whispered, sighing. The teacher yelled that they were all to draw a still life, and turned around so that the class could see a basket filled with tomatoes sitting on a clean tan stool.

_Tomatoes?_

I grabbed my pencil and focused intently on the red vegetables, hearing the student's begun to chat amongst themselves.

"So. You like to draw?" A voice asked from next to me. I turned to face Alfred.

"I do. I've drawn ever since I was little." I stated, making slow, graceful strokes with my pencil, leaving smooth gray lines on my paper.

"That's cool! I've mostly cartooned, but, I thought it'd be interesting to try realism." He laughed, beginning to outline the still life. Alfred smiled and stuck the corner of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he tried to outline the perfectly. I continued with my strokes, the outline of a tomato beginning to appear.

"How's your day been?" The American asked cheerfully, his eyes crinkling slightly at the sides. I looked at him, curious.

"Um, it's gone well…" I stuttered, pausing from my drawing. Alfred laughed and turned to get a good look at me. I felt my face slightly redden as I tried to focus on the sketch.

He slowly reached out a hand and ran a head through my short hair. My face turned bright red as he quickly pulled his hand away. I turned to him, startled.

"Wh- wh-"I stuttered, face a bright red as Alfred just looked at me.

"You have spider webs all over your hair…" He stated, brushing his hands on his baggy blue jeans.

"What?" I asked, and I quickly ran my hands through my hair. Sure enough, there were cobwebs all over my head.

"Where did those come from?" Alfred asked, picking up his pencil again and I ran a hand through my hair again.

"Well, do you know old spy movies and adventure films?" I asked. Alfred nodded curtly, his eyes now focused back on his drawing.

"Well, this school has some old hidden passageways. The principal has shown me them, just in case I need to get to a class…"

"That is so cool!" Alfred yelled loudly, then paling when he noticed that the class had turned to look at him. He stayed quiet until they had all returned to their sketches.

"Seriously?" Alfred asked, disbelieving. For some reason I felt proud suddenly. I grinned, and nodded my head.

_Why am I telling him these things? They're supposed to be a secret!_

But I had Alfred's utter attention, and so I just had to boast. Just then, I came up with an idea.

"Hey, since it's the last class of the day, would you like to see them with me?" I asked.

I don't know what made me say that, the passages were supposed to be the Principals and mine's secret. But I just felt the urge to.

Alfred couldn't have smiled any wider.

"Would I!" He stated, eyes glowing.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: ASFKLJASGDLKJASDGAKLSDJGALKSD. Seriously, I am like SUPER sorry about not updating in forever. Sorry for mistakes, I can't really read through it.

Y' see, I am technically "grounded" and am not SUPPOSED to be on any electronics (Cell, T.V., Computer)

*BUT* my mom said I could go on to work on typing an English assignment.

HAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAAA...

I'm a bad influence...

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><p>Chapter 5: My real home.<p>

I stood impatiently in the hallway near the courtyard, waiting for Alfred to show up. I nervously adjusted shirt as I tapped my foot. Most of the student's were back in their dorms, though the sun was still up.

Waiting. Waiting.

I finally huffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

_I guess he didn't want to see it after all._ I thought bitterly, starting to stalk back down the hall to the library.

"Yo! Artie! Wait up!" A voice called out breathlessly from behind me. I whipped around.

"Alfred? I thought you weren't going to show up." I stated simply, trying to sound indifferent even though I was rather agitated.

"No way dude!" The American laughed, his head shaking. "I actually just had to run upstairs for a bit. Sorry." He scratched his neck awkwardly. He wore a black t-shirt and some dark blue skinny jeans. It suited him pretty well. I looked curiously at him.

"Why'd you change?"

"Well, after I saw how you were all covered in spider webs and stuff, I really didn't want to get cobwebs all over my clothes. So I just grabbed my least favorite tee and jeans." Alfred said nonchalantly, waving his hand around in the air. I blinked.

"You know, that's not such a bad idea." I pondered, scratching my head. But I just shrugged. "I have a lot of clothed, not one is particularly my 'favorite'. So, I'll be fine…" I stated.

"Wellp, let's go!" The American stated loudly. I grimaced.

"Please keep your voice down!" I stated curtly, beginning to walk down the hall.

"Aw, Artie. Don't be such a sourpuss!" The blonde laughed loudly.

"And don't call me that!"

"Whatever, Artie."

We soon approached an old door. It was ancient and rotting, hidden behind a long rug. Alfred gasped.

"This is SO cool!" He stated, in awe. I grinned and reached out to open the door.

"Now watch your head, the ceiling starts out low." I noted, opening the door to reveal an old, cobwebbed concrete tunnel. I stepped in slowly.

"Geez, it's tight in here." Alfred complained, squeezing through behind me.

"No it's not." I stated simply, continuing to step along the dark, dusty hall.

"Well, that's just 'cause you've got such a girlish figure!" Alfred grumbled. I stopped up short.

_Girlish figure._

_Girlish figure!_

We both just stood there awkwardly for a moment, until I suddenly whipped around.

"Girlish figure?" I hissed, my eyes sending mental daggers into Alfred's. Alfred just stood there in the darkness. I couldn't make out his face too well, but I could definitely see a small blush on his face.

"Uh…" The American stuttered, frozen in his spot.

"Screw you! You're just like everyone else. All you want from me is to make fun of me!" I stated and stalked off, ending up into a large concrete room with many different tunnels.

It had small slits for windows, letting in a bit of sunlight into the dim room. Vines grew through the open windows, gracefully flowering here and there. There was an old musty rug in the corner of the room, along with a pretty but old amber wood table. There were books scattered here and there on the table, along with sketchpads and a small vase of white roses I had picked from the bush under my reading tree earlier.

This was my real home.

I often came here, sitting in the soft plush chairs and reading adventurous stories. When I felt sad, stressed, or like I just needed to get away from it all, I came here. Since I was the only one who used the tunnels, I had no worries of someone coming and stealing or defiling my belongings.

The room didn't seem glum to me. To me, it seemed rather dramatically beautiful, the red-flowered vines creeping around the walls and ceiling. And the sunlight was still plenty, so the room was quite nicely illuminated.

By force of habit, I went over to sit down on a plush chair, curling my legs up. I waited for Alfred to come out of the tunnel, so I could properly yell at him.

I waited.

And waited.

"Alfred?" I called, standing up worriedly and running out into the tunnel. He wasn't there.

I dashed out of the tunnel, and looked around, completely disheveled. Alfred stood awkwardly, stiffly, with his arms at his sides.

We just stood there. Then I walked up to him.


End file.
